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by toxica939



Series: if you're lonely; the sexting series [2]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 15:52:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15732627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toxica939/pseuds/toxica939
Summary: Robert's next message startles a laugh out of him. He should have known.What are you wearing?Really?Aaron. I'm in Bath, it's raining, I've just watched Jimmy sweat his way through a vindaloo.And then;Humour me xAaron's nothing if not a model husband, so he relents;PantsORmore sexting fic





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It's a Thursday night, Aaron pottering around alone, _again_ , tidying up the kitchen and straightening the sofa cushions. He couldn't give a shit about any of it, to be honest, but Robert'll have a face on if he comes home to a tip. _Again_.

His phone lights up on the kitchen side. It'll be Robert replying to Aaron's last message, the obligatory _night night daddy_ photo of Seb; fresh from his bath, hair stuck up, and chewing on his towel.

It's quiet on the monitor, his phone's all the way over there, and he's just got comfy with a bedtime Horlicks; the one he allows himself when Robert's not there to make fun of him, poke at his tummy and ask which one of them's supposed to be the old man here.

He'll text him back later.

:::

He only remembers when he's climbing into bed and the message notification is still on the screen when he plugs his phone in to charge. 3 new messages.

_Cute. Tell him goodnight. I'm still stuck in this fucking curry house x_

_Don't forget to put the bin out. It's blue and green day. Enjoy your warm milk grandpa x_

And then; _You still up?_

It was only ten minutes ago, while Aaron was brushing his teeth, and he is, so he replies; _Just in bed_

He snuggles back into the pillows while he waits for a reply. It's dark, just the low light of the bedside lamp throwing long shadows up the walls. He stretches his legs out, wriggling his toes against the cool sheets. He hates going to bed without Robert, reminds him too much of a time when Robert was gone and he wasn't coming back.

Robert's next message startles a laugh out of him. He should have known.

_What are you wearing?_

_Really?_

_Aaron. I'm in Bath, it's raining, I've just watched Jimmy sweat his way through a vindaloo._ And then; _Humour me x_

Aaron's nothing if not a model husband, so he relents;  _Pants_

_Yeah? You want me to take them off for you?_

_Not yet_

_???_

_Get on the bed_

_Alright. How do you want me?_

There's a photo on his phone, one Aaron looks at more than he cares to admit. It's Robert, splayed out in the wrinkled mess of their bed. This bed. Aaron's sat astride his hips, hairy knees visible at the bottom of the shot. Robert's got his hands over his eyes, fingers up in the front of his hair. His mouth's hanging open, parted on a gasp because Aaron had been messing around, shuffling his arse back and forth against Robert's hard on, teasing them both.

He sends a copy to Robert. _Try this._

He remembers how that afternoon had gone; hanging on all fours over Robert while he worked him open, before he sank back, hand planted in the middle of Robert's chest and thighs straining. Robert had let him drive, let him fuck himself, hips grinding to find the right angle. He remembers when Robert had had enough, seized him by the hips, held Aaron still while he gave it to him. It's a good memory. Enough to have him pulling at his dick through his underwear, stiffening.

His phone lights up. _What about this?_

And then a picture message a minute later;

It's Robert, face obscured by the phone he's holding up. He's stood in front of a full length mirror, generic hotel room in the background and his open laptop lit up on the desk in the corner. He's naked, but for his underwear; wide shoulders, thick thighs, the soft flesh of his hips. He's got a hand down is pants, because of course he has - it's Robert.

Aaron takes a moment, teeth dragging at his bottom lip, to imagine his hand curled around Robert instead. The hot, heavy weight of him in his palm, sticky head pushing at his wrist.

The hand he was rubbing absently at himself with slips under his waistband to cup his cock. He wonders if Robert is as hard as he is.

 _Take them off_ he sends, glad that Robert can't see how eager he is, how roughly he's fisting himself just at the thought of it, the tease of Robert laid out and bare for him.

He's never wanted anyone else like this. Gave up being terrified of it years ago.

_You first_

And fuck it, it wouldn't be the first time. Aaron pulls his hand free to push his pants down and off, shake them off his feet to be lost in the bed somewhere. He shoves the duvet down, spreads his legs.

The photo he sends Robert is dark, not quite in focus. Just the hard jut of his cock against his belly, hand cupped over his balls.

 _Fuck_ he gets back. _How are you this hot?_

He doesn't blush under the attention any more, he knows Robert thinks he's fit. But it's still nice to hear.

He waits a couple of minutes to see if Robert's going to send him anything in return, but nothing comes through.

 _I want to see it_ , he sends in the end. If you don't ask you don't get.

_See what?_

_Seriously?_

_Yes. Ask me._

Aaron's sweating now, damp between his back and the bed. He hates it when Robert makes him beg. Loves it. Fuck.

 _Get your dick out you prat_ , is what he sends because Robert might be fit, but he's not that fit.

Except he is though, isn't he? Because Aaron's breath sticks in his throat when then photo comes through. Same pose as before, completely naked now, free hand stretched up behind his head, because he really is a prat. It's still doing it for Aaron though, always has. Raised elbow pulling Robert's belly taut, cock curved up, hard enough to stay there. Aaron wants to put his mouth on it.

He lets go of his dick, precome stringing between his thumb and the head. He sucks it clean, tang of salt across is tongue that could be Robert, but isn't. It's not enough.

Robert answers on the third ring, voice like a smile in Aaron's ear.

"That do it for you then did it?" he sounds like he's making fun but he isn't. He's never been like that in bed, he's never made Aaron feel ashamed of any want.

"Fuck off, as if you're not wishing you were here."

"I am. Always."

It's a little too earnest for the throb of Aaron's dick, back in his hand now, so he change tack. "I'm not the only one touching myself here though, am I?"

There's an intake of breath, Robert's grumbling little groan. "You know you're not."

"Let me hear you then," he always wants to hear him. No one sounds their pleasure like Robert does. Like it's his life's mission to make sure Aaron knows exactly what he does to him. Aaron's panted his way through too many fucks to count with his hand slapped over Robert's mouth to keep him quiet.

He doesn't want him quiet now.

"I've been thinking about this all day," Robert says, that little rumble that means something just hit the right spot.

“Have you?” Aaron tightens his fist, short little jerks of his wrist, thumb smearing over the head the way Robert would do. It's almost convincing.

“I sat through three power point presentations about modern logistics today, Aaron. I've had a lot of time to think.”

His voice is getting vague, the heat in Aaron's balls threatening to well up and drown him out. He slows his hand, back sinking down into the bed from the arch it had made. “What were you thinking?”

“You want to know?”

“Yeah – ah – tell me.”

Robert makes a grunting noise, blows out a breath. “You on your knees for me. On your back.”

Aaron's drifting again, body throbbing. He's alone in a way he hadn't realised before, suddenly desperate for the weight of Robert over him, pressing him down into the bed. He feels anchorless without him, untethered. He presses his cock up against his belly, tries to calm himself down before he floats away.

"I know what you want," Robert says, the snake charmer voice Aaron fell for all those years ago.

"Yeah." They both know.

"I want you to start with two."

Aaron has to close his eyes, face burning. He reaches for the lube in the bedside drawer, turns on his side, knee pulled up and braced on the bed. It's easy to wet his fingers, reach behind him and rub two of them down the crease of himself.

He wedges his hand and the phone between his ear and the pillow. " _God_."

"That's it," Robert's saying, like he's the one pressing at Aaron's arse, opening him up around two wide finger tips. It's a stretch, to start like this. It doesn't sting, too much lube to burn, but it's the same out of control, aching feeling he always gets. Like his belly’s caving in on itself. Soles of his feet tingling and sweating across his forehead.

Robert's murmuring to him while Aaron rides down onto his own hand, pushing in to the second knuckle. It feels good, sparks up his spine when he brushes against his prostate. But it's not Robert. It's not the same.

He moves his fingers in and out. Until they're sliding with no resistance and he has to turn his face into the pillow to breathe through it, phone creaking against his ear.

He's panting, body tensing like he's holding his breath. He feels mindless with it, needs it. He needs Robert to _know_.

"Fuck," he gasps, aching for it. "Get in me." He wants it so much he can feel it; Robert tugging his fingers free, turning him belly down and spreading his thighs further with his own; blunt head, firm pressure, and himself, yielding. It makes his head spin, Robert sliding into him, that chest-rattling moan he does, like Aaron's dragging the pleasure right out of the centre of him and he can't believe it, can't believe how good it feels. How good Aaron feels.

The groan in his ear isn't that one, but it's pained, shocked all the same. "God, I want to. You know I do. Give yourself another, fuck yourself for me. You can take it."

Aaron's not sure he can, but he does it anyway. Lets himself be loud when he pushes his ring finger in with the other two, whimpering through the stretch so Robert can hear him.

He can't do much once it's in, fingers wedged inside himself, shoulder straining. He rolls his hips back onto his hand, cock dragging on the bed and shooting pleasure through him.

Robert sounds breathless. "Harder."

Aaron shakes his head, mouth open against the damp patch he's made of the pillow. "I can't." He sounds overwhelmed, need to big for his body.

"Aaron," Robert says. "Look at you, you're perfect. You can. You want to get fucked, so fuck."

He does. God he does. But he wants Robert here. Wants to be up on his knees; hands on the wall and head gone loose on his shoulders. He wants Robert's fingers biting into his hips, dragging him down on on Robert dick. He wants Robert.

"You've got me," Robert says, and shit, he's so far gone he didn't even know he was talking. "I'm right there. Use me."

It shudders through Aaron, arse aching where it's spread. He pushes, fingers moving inside him again, keeps going, harder and faster, palm slapping against his arse cheeks. He wonders if Robert can hear that over Aaron's moaning, the wet slap of him fucking himself, arm half dead from being twisted back, enough that he can almost pretend it's Robert giving it to him.

"Do it," Roberts saying, over and over. Until Aaron shoves a hand between his hips and the bed, pulling at his cock. There's no finesse, just his fingers pushing and his hand pulling until he can barely breathe. He curls in on himself with the force of it, when it comes. Ropes come up onto his belly, seeping hot and wet into the sheets. His throat feels sore, muscles aching. He has no idea how he hasn't woken up the whole house.

He fumbles for the phone where it's slid down off the pillow.

"Robert?"

There's no response straight away, just the sound of Robert grunting, the whimper moan he does when he's riding the edge. Jesus. Was Robert hard that whole time?

There's a sharp gasp. "Oh god, Aaron. Aaron I'm-"

It steals the breath Aaron's barely got back, buzz of arousal still humming in his balls despite himself. He rolls on to his back, free hand rubbing at his thigh. He wants to _see_.

"I wish I was there," he says, doesn't even know of Robert can still hear him. "You want my mouth, yeah?"

That must be enough to do it for Robert, because there's a sharp cry, like it's punched from him, and then the drawing of several heaving breaths. Robert huffs out his nose like an angry bull when he's fucking, when he's putting his back into it and driving Aaron out his mind. It's sexier than it should be.

It's quiet for a moment; that shocky adrenaline crash where neither of them are sure if that really happened. Aaron feels giddy, not sleepy at all.

"Shit," Robert laughs.

“Yeah.”

"I miss you."

"Home tomorrow."

"You good?"

"Mmm," Aaron agrees. He's still wet between his arse cheeks and his arm's killing him. "Very."

"Me too." A beat, "I love you"

It's awfully sappy for a bloke who just convinced Aaron to finger bang himself through the mattress.

"I love you too,” he says anyway, because he does, and his high is fading to black now, wrapping around him like Robert's arms would, pulling him under.

Maybe they're both as bad as each other sometimes.

 


End file.
